Comme ci, comme ça

France — a country of wine, fashion, and love — in this story becomes a space of hard work and alienation. A place where hope and happiness intertwine with fear, exhaustion, and depression. French wine is divided into white and red (how ironic); for me, it contains every shade of grey. It tastes of sweat, mud, and rain.

Euro or złoty? Money or adventure? Love, happiness, meaning? We are all searching for something and running away from something else. It was supposed to be better: France, a new world, decent money. But wherever we go, we take ourselves with us. Problems from Poland travel with us and pick up new ones along the way. Emigration turns into isolation; isolation into exile.

Being there, we realize how much we have left behind: family, friends, a daily life that once seemed to have no value — today it is a dream that…